Light The Way
by philus
Summary: Miles reflects on his tragic past. AU story, set before and during Season 1. Each chapter will be told from the POV of characters old and new. You need to have seen the first series of Revolution to understand what's going on - but be prepared for some surprises! Rated M to be on the safe side. I do not own any characters from Revolution. Please Rate and Review!
1. General Matheson

MILES

I stare into the dregs of my fifth glass of the evening, thinking about the past when I should be letting the damned whisky obliterate it instead. About me and Bass, driving back to base after another night out, with him calling some girl and me driving. (Hey, someone has to be responsible when your pal is so drunk that instead of saying "I love you, honey" over the phone, he says "I love bunnies"). About those unforgettable nights with Rachel. Hell, I'd even take my days as General Matheson. I guess when you're as drunk as I am right now, even the darkest bits of your past seem bright.

But then you have to wake up the next morning and face reality. You're alone. You live in a dive bar in Hell on Earth – otherwise known as a post-Blackout city. And you will keep being alone and living in dive bars in Hell on Earth, because the militia will not stop hunting the one person who came close to assassinating General Monroe. That, and the fact that there aren't many job opportunities nowadays. It's been five years now, and no-one except militia soldiers are coming to find me. I'll never see my niece Charlie again, never hear her laugh at my god-awful singing when I take her for a ride in my car. I'll never see my brother, and the last thing I saw of Rachel was her mutilated corpse. So I'll drink myself to death, and obliterate the past once and for all.


	2. The United States Of America

COMMANDER WAYNE RAMSEY, REBEL LEADER

Another militia camp destroyed, another price to pay. Right now one of my soldiers is being cut to pieces in a militia tent by that animal Strausser, because of what he knows about the Rebels' movements. But I know Thompson will never break, never betray the United States. My friend will die, but he'll die an American, and I'll run Monroe into the ground for him. Still, I sit with my head in my hands, shoulders shaking, until I feel a gentle hand on my arm.

"Dad?"

It's my little girl, Lola, though not so little anymore. She's thirteen and already growing as beautiful as her mother. If I have to hear about Thompson dying, better to get the letter here at home, with Lola to sit by me, to give me peace as only she can.

"He doesn't feel pain anymore, Dad," she says. "He's with his wife and kids now. He's happy." (Thompson joined us after his family was killed by the militia). I feel comforted – for about two seconds until my wife barges in.

"Wayne, why are you telling her about Thompson? You'll give her nightmares."

"He already told me, Mum. And I'm thirteen. I don't get nightmares like a little kid." I hide a smile at the teenager coming out in my daughter.

"Well, you don't need to hear any more tonight. Go and start lighting the lamps in the house. I'll be there to help you in a few minutes."

As soon as Lola is back inside the house, my wife starts to scold me. "How could you tell her about Strausser? She shouldn't even know he exists!"

"And wrapping her in bubble's gonna help? The world isn't what it used to be, Jane. Lola has to know what it's really like out there." Yes, because even this remote settlement could be invaded by the militia, and naive is the worst thing you can be in the post-Blackout world.

"I sent Nora out to steal some rifles," I say, and it has the desired effect of making Jane feel better.

"Oh, Nora! One of your top soldiers. Clever, too. She'll manage to sneak those weapons away from the militia, definitely."

"I'll have to go tomorrow," I say, and we stare at each other sadly. Once again I have to go away without knowing if I'll come back to raise our daughter. Will I get to worry about her as she goes out on her first date? Will she get to drive her first car or go to college? It all depends on me. And if I can find Rachel Matheson.


	3. A Rebel's Daughter

LOLA

It's been three months now since Dad and the Rebel army left, loaded up with food, water – and explosives. The Rebels use something called a Molotov cocktail, made of turpentine, egg whites, and kerosene. The turpentine is resin tapped from pine trees around our house, then boiled in a copper kettle. Then the egg whites are added to the mix and poured into glass bottles. Then after the paraffin chunks are melted down to kerosene, a rag is soaked in the kerosene and stuffed into the bottle, then ignited, and then...um...BOOM! Dad says none of that would be necessary "if the lights were back on", but electricity just seems like a fantasy to me. Press a switch and a whole room floods with light? Crazy. Drive without horsepower and get where you're going in half the time? _Insane_.

And anyway, who cares? Electricity won't make General Monroe drop dead. There are only two things I want at the moment – Monroe dead and our crops growing well enough to feed us. And those crops have to be shared around the whole village, so I grab my fishing pole, bucket, and packed lunch, then head for the lake.

After an hour, I've caught a dozen fish and I'm about to go home when I see a really gorgeous guy sitting a few feet away from me. He has blond, curly hair and brooding blue eyes – _swoon_! There's no-one like him in the whole village. I have to talk to him, or I'll never have a boyfriend. Especially when my stupid boobs are so small – ugh...

"Hi," I say to him.

"Morning," he says with a soft, Midwestern twang. Even a nun would melt if she heard him. "Fishing?"

"Uh, yeah," I say, trying not to be shy. "Um...would you like a cookie?" I pull one out of my lunch basket.

For about half an hour, we talk, and he's really nice. He asks me about where I live, how our crops are doing, how often I come here to fish. He also tells me a bit about himself, including that he lives in Independence Hall. "Isn't it abandoned now?" I say. That's what I heard, anyway. After the Blackout, the people who ran Independence Hall as a museum fled Philadelphia. Just as well, since most people who stayed in the cities died.

He shakes his head with a smile. "No, not anymore. Did you make these cookies?"

"Yeah." Mom is a great cook and she taught me everything she knows.

"Can I ask your name?"

"I'm Lola," I say, shaking his hand.

"And I'm General Monroe."

I spit cookie crumbs, then laugh. "Oh ha ha, very funny."

"Why would you think I was joking?"

"Well, you'd have to be older and, I dunno...more military-looking?"

Suddenly, a soldier steps out from behind a tree and says, "General."

_Oh my God_.

General Monroe puts on the black leather trenchcoat the soldier gives him. It has an 'M' logo on it.

"How about now, Miss Lola?"

We walk back in silence to the village, with me praying that food and a cup of tea is all Monroe and his militia want from us. The general doesn't say anything about my being outside the village, though. Either he's forgotten or he just doesn't care. A dictator has bigger things to worry about, you know?

Mom is out when we reach my house, so I get to be all alone with this monster, watching him drink the tea I made him. How could someone so good-looking – so young and charming and friendly, be an evil dictator?

"Now, Lola," the snake says as he drains the last of his tea, "I'm afraid I have a bone to pick with you."

_Oh, no. He does remember. _

"You were caught outside your village. That's a hanging offense. But, I have another problem. Do you know what Independence Hall looks like now?"

"No, sir," I answer meekly.

"Well, it's a mess. In fact," he says more to himself than to me, "we seem to be eating cobwebs with every damned meal."

I take his empty mug of tea when he holds it up to me. "So," he continues, "I need someone to clean the place, and keep it clean. And to cook for me." He gives a telltale pause.

"So, if I work for you, you'll let me live?"

"Well, if you help me, Lola, then I'll help you. What do you say?"

"I'll come."

I pack without thinking, not even feeling my feet on the ground. I'm surprised by how calm I am – I always thought that if something like this happened, I'd burst into tears. Instead, I'm the one comforting Mom when she finds out what's happening.

"Listen to me," I say. "You can't beg them not to take me - they'll kill you. I need you to stay calm and write Dad a letter. Tell him I'm at Independence Hall. All right?" Mom nods, thankfully calm again.

"Remember everything your dad told you."

"I will." Mom squeezes me tight as a militia soldier yells at me.

"Hey! Get moving!"

I turn and walk away, still dazed as I leave home with the scum of the Earth.


	4. Our Funeral

CHARLIE – SOME WEEKS EARLIER

Danny and me are walking through the woods when we see it. An overturned mobile home. Aaron told me that people used to travel in one of these, seeing America, Canada, Mexico...anywhere they wanted to go. More of the world than I'll ever get to see. I'm not even allowed into a forest ten yards outside our village, unless it's to hunt for food. Dad seems to think the outside world is a cesspit not worth seeing.

"Take a look," I say to Danny. He looks at the mobile home, then at me.

"Charlie, how about we actually go hunting for once?"

I grin at him. "No-one's stopping you." I know Dad would kill me if he knew we were in the woods without a good reason. But I also know that Danny would never give me away, so we clamber onto the mobile home to find the entrance. After pushing back some undergrowth, I find the door and pull it up. Danny and I lower ourselves down carefully, and the first thing I see is a freezer...

_I'm five years old. Dad brings all of the ice-cream tubs over to me as I jump up and down. "Really?"_

_"The freezer doesn't work," Mom says. "It's all going to melt anyway." I'm cramming ice-cream into my mouth as she speaks. _

_"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down!" Dad says. " 'Cause I want you to remember what it tastes like."_

Slowly, I close the freezer. Then I notice the postcard from Chicago on the lid. It's a picture of a big stadium, all lit up. Then I hear the dreaded coughing behind me. Danny is taking huge gulps of air as he struggles to breathe.

"I'm fine," he gasps as I rush over to him.

"You're not fine, you're having an asthma attack!" I grab my little brother and drag him home as fast as I can.

Later that morning, I sit watching as Maggie hands a slimy green mixture to Danny.

"Suck this back. Doctor's orders."

Danny looks at the mixture. "Maggie, this is awful."

Maggie smiles. "Of course it is. If it's effective, it always tastes awful."

Danny obediently drinks it as Dad comes into the room. "You were supposed to watch out for him," he says to me.

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling guilty. Somehow I always seem to get me and Danny in trouble. "It's just – _nothing's _safe! _Everything _is off-limits!" I can't help exploding – is the outside world really that dangerous?

"Well, you know what? Go ahead. Wander out into the wild blue. Get your throat slit by bandits, or get yourself lynched by militia! Does any of that sound good to you?"

"It's not all like that."

Then, to my irritation, Maggie chimes in. "I don't know, it can get pretty rough out there."

I turn back to Dad. "There's other towns like ours, right? Other people?"

"Trust me," Dad says. "There is nothing worth seeing out there."

Then Maggie butts in again. "I was your age once; I get it. But he's right. Things are - "

I've finally had enough and I say to Dad, "Excuse me, is she a part of this family now? She hops into bed with you, and that makes her Mom?"

"Your mom is gone. She died out there! Do you want to end up just like her?"

I can't take anymore, I just can't. I walk out of the room and head for the abandoned fairground where I keep my old Harry Potter lunchbox. All my memories are stored in this box. Most of them are from my mom. Her iPhone, a flash drive she used, a Hawaiian doll she gave me. And then she left us. Did she really get killed, or did she move on like Dad did, finding a replacement for us?

BANG! A gunshot is fired. It's coming from the village! I run back, legs flying over fallen tree trunks, and stop at the gates. Dad is lying on the floor, his shirt soaked with blood as Maggie tries to keep pressure on it.

"What happened?" I ask her, my voice shaking.

"Danny's gone," Dad says.

"Gone? What do you mean - "

"It was the militia," Maggie says. "The militia took him."

Danny! He's gone because I let him out of my sight. Because I was off, feeling sorry for myself, while some militia soldiers took him away.

"My brother Miles is in Chicago," Dad says weakly. "At the Grand, Walton Place. He can get Danny."

"But – but you're going to come with me, Dad!" He's bleeding out but he can't go, he _can't_...

"Listen to me, Charlie. You're strong. Like your mother. You can do this. You have to do this."

I nod, forcing back the tears as Dad slips away.

The next morning, I pack my things as Maggie comes through the door. "This doesn't make any sense," I say. "Why would they take Danny?"

"I don't know," Maggie replies. "I guess we'll know when we find him."

"We?" Why does she insist on following me and my family everywhere we go? Why can't she stop trying to be Mom? I already have a mom, and she's dead. I don't need Maggie on this trip. I don't need anyone but myself.

"They need you here," I say to Maggie. "You're the town doctor."

"James can take over."

"I'll be fine."

"Maybe, but I'm still coming with you."

"You don't seem to understand. I don't want you to come!"

"And I don't think you understand. I'm not doing this for you."

We start walking out of the village when Aaron appears, loaded up with supplies. Aaron is coming with us? He's afraid of bees. He's afraid of everything. How can he help me get Danny back?

"Don't give me that look," Aaron says to me.

"You're afraid of bees."

"I'm allergic to bees. There's a difference."

"Well, it's your funeral," Maggie says as we head out. But I'm going to get Danny back, no matter what.

**A/N: Hope I've made Charlie as non-irritating as possible. The next chapter will be from Miles's POV, so stay tuned! (I made Charlie's lunchbox a Harry Potter one because that's more likely for a five-year-old in 2012).**


	5. Uncle Miles

MILES 

I'm pouring drinks when I hear a British voice behind me.

"Excuse me!"

I turn around and there is a gorgeous blonde.

"Maybe you can help me."

For the first time in years, I feel horny. Well, that's a step up from suicidal, anyhow.

"God, I _hope _I can help you."

"We're looking for somebody."

"Lady, with that accent, you are classing up the joint."

"Well, that shouldn't be too difficult."

_Yeah, thanks, _I think.

"We're looking for a Miles Matheson."

I shrug my shoulders. "Never heard of him."

"You don't understand," another, pleading voice says. "He has to be here."

I take a look at the owner of that voice. Wide-eyed, quivering lips...Jesus, how does she survive in Chicago?

"If you know him, or anyone that does, please tell him his brother's dead. He was killed by militia."

The numbness of disbelief is a good cover for what I'm feeling. But how does she know all of this?

"Who are you?" I ask her.

"I'm Charlotte – Charlie. I'm his niece."

Suddenly, I notice the boy with her. He's well-built, walks like a soldier and eyes me suspiciously. That could mean –

"Alright, come with me. Just you," I say to my niece. Whatever Charlie and I say to each other, it has to be away from that boy. There's something about him that just screams "militia". I could be wrong but I'm sure as hell not taking any chances.

Once we're in the old lobby, I pour myself a drink to keep that feeling of numbness going. And then Charlie tells me about her brother Danny, how the militia took him after they killed Ben.

"Why did Monroe want my dad?" Charlie asks me. "And why does he want you?"

"Monroe thinks your dad knew something," I explain to her. "Something important. And he thinks your dad told me, so I must know it, too."

"Know what?"

"How the lights went out. Maybe how to turn 'em back on."

"Okay, so what do we do now?"

"What do _we _do...about what?"

"How do we get Danny back?"

"I never said I was going with you."

"What?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to maintain a low profile here. Your brother is bait. We go after it – not good for any of us."

"No – look! Look, I have lost everyone I care about."

_Yeah, I know how that feels. _

"My mom's dead. My dad's dead, and God knows what they're doing to Danny, so you are gonna help me get him back!"

I look up at her. Her quivering mouth is now set in a hard line, and her large blue eyes are fierce with determination. Maybe she's not so hopeless after all. But still, low profile...

"Kid, I don't even know you."

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry to bother you!" She storms out. I want to go after her, but I can't bring myself to do it. I'm trying to forget the past, not have it staring me in the face.

Charlie and her friends are still there when I walk back into the bar. She still looks upset. The boy steps up to me and says, "So what did you say to her?"

Is this kid questioning me now? Okay, that's it. I pull up his sleeve and sure enough, the Monroe Republic logo is branded on his wrist. He must've been following Charlie from the get-go, hoping to flush me out.

"Militia, huh?"

He holds a knife to my throat – I headbutt him and he backs off drawing his bow, making his way out of the bar.

That night, I sit in the lobby with Charlie, the British chick, and some computer geek who came with them.

"Uncle Miles, you can't stay here."

"And whose fault is that? Your boyfriend's." But she's right; I can't stay here. By now that kid has gone to get the nearest militia squad, and in two hours - three hours, tops - they'll be here. But what does it matter? I've already lost everything – my best friend, my brother, Rachel – and I don't even recognise my own niece. Drinking myself to death on the last bottle of single malt in Chicago seems as good a plan as any, so I pull the cork and pour.

"If the militia are coming for you, then leave with us, before it's too late! Please!" Charlie pleads.

"Just go." Yes, _go _and stop reminding me of Rachel and her own large blue eyes, pleading with me to let her see her kids again someday. But Charlie won't move.

"GET OUT!" I yell at her. So she does, along with her friends.

The next morning, I come down the stairs to a company of militia, led by the boy.

"Come on down," he says. "We don't want to hurt you."

"I don't want to hurt them," I say, indicating the other soldiers. "But I'm not going back." No, I'm not going back to help Monroe butcher the other Republics, like we did to New Jersey. "You know, you could just let me go. I'll drink myself to death." No such good luck. The boy shakes his head, smiling.

"You know we can't do that."

I nod, drawing my sword. "I know."

The militia draw their weapons and charge me. I easily take them out - since they use exactly the same moves I taught them, they're predictable.

Then the sharpshooters fire, but the stone columns give me plenty of cover as I run upstairs. A sword-wielding soldier has snuck up behind me, but he doesn't notice the crossbow hidden in the bookshelf until it's too late. Another group of militia appear, along with some sharpshooters. I barely miss them by leaping over the stair railing, only to find a sniper right in front of me, gun pressed to my temple.

"Come on, Matheson. Just come back to Monroe nice and quiet, and you'll be - "

He gasps as a crossbow bolt spears him through the chest – and it's Charlie holding the crossbow. The distraction is enough for me to take out the rest of the soldiers. But where did Charlie go – and that boy who was tracking her? I run into the bar and my niece is there with her friends.

"I didn't ask you to come back," I say, looking at the blonde.

"Don't look at me," she replies, "I wanted to let you rot."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because we're family," says Charlie.

I roll my eyes. "Kid, if I'm coming with you, you're gonna have to dial it back a notch."

"You're coming with us?"

"I can't stay here. Lover boy'll just send more troops."

She gives me a delighted smile. Since when has anyone been _delighted _to have me along? I just hope she knows what she's getting herself into – no wait, she doesn't. But somehow I'm not keen on her finding out about "General Matheson", so I'll keep it from her for as long as possible on the road.

"Thank you," says Charlie.

"You're welcome," I say. "We're all going to get our heads stuck on spikes, but you're welcome."


	6. Peaches

LOLA

We've been on the road for four weeks now, and I have officially seen Hell. Dad told me about what the Monroe militia are like, but hearing about it is nothing compared to actually seeing it. The ribbons of bleeding flesh after a soldier is flogged, with a smell that would have made me sick if I wasn't scared of being flogged myself for causing a disturbance. The heads on spikes outside the houses of people who dared say they wanted the United States back – and the soldiers who laugh about it! They boast about killing all the time – they live for it. Or at least, some of them do. I've heard other soldiers whispering to each other about what a shame it is, that guy who risked hanging for one day's worth of militia rations, and how they need a stiff drink after hanging the desperate, starving man. Are militia soldiers even capable of feeling for other people? It just seems so...weird.

Now we make camp for the final time before we reach Independence Hall. But can I really stick this out until the Rebels storm the place? I've been holding in crying for a whole month because of all the horrible things I've seen, and I don't know if I can take anymore. Maybe I should run for it?

I think about escaping as I make lunch for the troops. As I desperately try to tell myself it is possible for me to survive out there, with little to no food or water, my thoughts are interrupted.

"Can I have a peach?"

I look up to see a bearded man. His tone is extremely polite and pleasant, but his eyes are cold.

"Of course, sir," I say, holding out a peach to him.

He shakes his head slowly, with a smile. "No, no, no. I don't want that kind of peach."

He's creeping up behind me now, his mouth resting lightly on my hair. "I want the kind of peach I can eat - " as he squeezes my butt cheek – "every day."

Before I know it, he's standing stock still as I hold my chopping knife to his throat. Then I hear Monroe's voice.

"Lola, are you threatening one of my men?"

"No, sir," I say, holding the knife to my own throat. "I'm just about to kill myself. That way, I can avoid being raped or harming one of your men."

Monroe looks at the creepy bearded man in disgust. "Strausser, return to your post. And Lola, put the knife down."

They both leave as I try to process what I just did. Without even thinking, I fought off one of if not _the _most dangerous man in the Monroe militia, and convinced General Monroe to let me live afterwards. If I can do that, I can do anything. There is no need to escape. As long as I can be brave, and as long as Mom has written Dad about Independence Hall, I can get through this.


	7. Revenge

PVT KEVIN RICHARDS, FRIEND OF PVT TEMPLETON

You know one of the great things about being militia? It's the authority to punish assholes however you want. Except this one. That eighteen-year-old kid sleeping over there – he's the only one I can't touch. Captain Neville's orders, see. He says the little prick is important, but was my best friend any less important? He's dead, and the son of a bitch who killed him is allowed to live? The world is fucked up, that's what it is.

But it's dark now, and Captain Neville went into town for something. So I've got this "Danny" all to myself. I kick him awake.

"Up and at 'em," I say mockingly. "Now, where were we? Oh, yeah. You killed my best friend. Remember him? No, I guess you wouldn't. He doesn't matter to you," I say, my voice rising in anger. "To you, he's a nobody."

"And what about my dad?" Danny replies. "Was he a nobody, too?"

The blinding rage I feel blocks everything else out. I grab the heavy sack of potatoes nearby and ram it down on the little bastard's head – once, twice, three times, four times until I'm worn out. It'll have to do. For now.

The next morning, it still isn't enough. I have to go back and do it again. I have to. But as I grab hold of Danny's hair, his violent coughing forces me to stop. Captain Neville told us to keep him alive, and God help anyone who disobeys his orders. If this is asthma, then –

"Captain Neville!" I yell, but as soon as I turn my back I feel a chain choking me. Danny is trying to strangle me with his own restraints!

"What's this?"

Captain Neville is standing in front of us, and Danny releases me. I pull the chain off and suck in huge lungfuls of air.

"You alright, son?" Captain Neville says as he bends down next to me.

"Yeah," I gasp, pulling myself to my feet.

"That's the spirit. Cuff him," he orders two of my pals.

As I watch Danny being trussed up, I realise that I don't have to risk my life disobeying orders to get my revenge. There's worse fates than death, and I'm going to make it my business to teach Danny that. The little son of a bitch will scream and cry and beg for mercy when I'm done with him. And if I'm really lucky, he'll go mad from it and kill himself for me. Boy, does it feel good to be militia today.

**A/N: I thought it would be interesting to make Danny's worst enemy a main character. How far will Private Richards's revenge take him? You'll have to wait and see! **


	8. A Place Called Shut Up And Stay Here

CHARLIE 

Miles leads us to a market in Pontiac, someplace south of Chicago. It's a militia outpost, and as we walk by I see two soldiers beating up some poor guy. "What did he do?" I whisper to Maggie.

"Spoke up, looked at them sideways...who knows?"

I knew the militia were bad, but this bad? For all I know, they could be doing the same to Danny right now...

I run up to Miles. "Danny's riding with guys like that, and we're..._what _are we doing here?"

"I told you, I need to talk to somebody. If you want to see your brother again, we'll have to go up against Monroe and a couple of thousand militia. We need help, and our help is here." He walks quickly ahead of me.

"Where are you going?"

"Uh, this little place called "Shut up and stay here!"" He walks off around the corner – then I gasp as three militia jump in front of me, Maggie, and Aaron, holding knives to our throats.

The militia drag us in the same direction Miles went, into a dingy-looking bar. Staring right at us is Miles and the bounty hunter we met earlier. We spared his life – why would he do this? Why would he hand us over to the militia?

Miles shrugs at the bounty hunter. "I don't know them," he says, indicating us. So now Uncle Miles is going to betray us too?

"They were walking around the train yard with you," the bounty hunter says to him.

"So? I met 'em yesterday. Been trying to bang the British chick."

"Then, you won't care if I slice 'em open?"

The soldier holding me brings his knife closer to my throat. I'm about to scream when Miles yells, "Alright, alright! Let 'em go."

"Miles?"

"Not a word," he snaps as the militia cuff him.

I stare after him as my last chance of saving Danny disappears. My little brother's at the mercy of Monroe's men, and it's all my fault. A commotion outside cuts through my thoughts, and I run outside with Maggie and Aaron to see Miles breaking the bounty hunter's neck. The snap on its own makes me feel sick.

That night, we make camp while Maggie picks Miles's cuffs. I still can't believe it. A member of my own family, a cold-blooded killer. How is it that killing comes so easy to Miles?

"Charlie, next time I tell you I want to kill somebody, let me kill him." I glare at him; I can't think of anything else to say. Then he grabs his backpack and starts walking.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"Learning my lesson," he replies. "I'll meet you in Maine Street, Lowell, Indiana. Got that?"

"Wait! You're leaving?"

"I gotta go get Nora."

"Who is this woman, anyway?"

"We can't get Danny back without her. That's all you need to know."

"Miles, let us come with you."

"Hey, you dragged me out here!" he snaps. "Lowell, Indiana. Two weeks."

"Miles, come on - "

But Miles walks off without looking back.

That night, I toss and turn. I can't just stay here, while Danny is alone and scared. I'm the only one left who knows how to take care of him. He could die of an asthma attack at any time because he doesn't have me there to help him. I can't just sit here! I have to help Miles find Nora. I have to.

When I left home to find Danny, I took some parchment we made from goat hide. Now I scribble on the parchment,

"I went after Miles. I'm sorry. Please don't worry." Then I quietly grab my pack and head off.

The next morning, my hunter's instincts are playing up. I know someone is following me, but I can't see them. As I turn to look around, I slip and fall over a wall. I crash down hard on my ankle. Then I see him. Nate. He was the one following me all this time. "Better take a look at it," he says, pointing to my ankle.

"I don't need your help, Nate!" I snap. And I don't, because my ankle is only bruised but I can use this. As Nate comes closer to inspect my ankle, I cuff him to the telephone pole.

"Wow, that's good, Charlie," he says. "I'm impressed." I can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not.

Naturally, when I catch up to Miles, he's not happy. "What the hell are you doing here? I told you I would come and find you."

"I couldn't just sit there."

Miles rolls his eyes. "Alright. But stay low. We're near the militia prison camp. That's where Nora is." We duck down in the trees as we see exhausted prisoners lugging something along the road. It's a helicopter.

"Crazy son of a bitch must think he can get the power going again."

"Who?"

"Monroe."

The prisoners are exhausted, sweating, feet bleeding. "What did they do?" I ask Miles.

"Probably couldn't pay their taxes." He points to a dark-haired prisoner. "That's Nora."

The prisoner next to Nora can't take anymore. He slumps to his knees. "Get up, you lazy piece of crap!" a guard with a huge rifle yells. Nora tries to pull the prisoner up, but he can't move. The guard shoots him dead. I stifle a cry. Now I have two reasons for saving poor Nora.

"I might be good with a sword, but I got jack squat against a rifle like that," Miles says. "So, we need a plan. Nightfall, we bust Nora out of there. You distract the guard on duty, I uncuff her. Got that?" I nod.

At nightfall, I tap on a tree near the on-duty guard. Sure enough, he comes marching in my direction, and I duck behind another cluster of trees. I watch Miles uncuff Nora, then all three of us run away from the prison camp.

"Thank you so much," Nora hisses at Miles five minutes later. "I didn't want to be rescued, and I sure as hell didn't need to be."

"You were on a chain gang."

"On purpose! I'm stealing sniper rifles. I was gonna load 'em onto that wagon" - she points at a horse and cart – "and take them to the Rebels. Those were Ramsey's orders."

"You mean Commander Ramsey? You joined the Rebels?!" Miles sounds really upset about this.

"Yeah. We're collecting rifles, machine guns, explosives...everything we can get our hands on. Ramsey sent me out to get those rifles the moment he found out Monroe took his little girl. We're storming Philadelphia. And you're gonna help us."

"Why am I gonna help you?"

"Because I can help you in return. Deal?"

Miles shakes her hand. "Deal."


	9. Independence Hall

LOLA

We arrive at Independence Hall late at night, soaked through and exhausted from walking for six miles in the rain. I promised myself I'd be strong, and I thought I was doing fine until I see Independence Hall for the first time. In the dark, the grand house towers over me like a monster's lair. Except the monster here is real.

When we go inside, I can see Monroe wasn't kidding about the state of the place. It's covered in cobwebs and dust. Even the lights are dimmer because of the film of dust on them. I flinch when Monroe appears right next to me.

"Lola, I'd like to see you in my office." His soft voice somehow makes me even more scared of him.

I follow him into the large room where they must have signed the Declaration of Independence. Now it has two Monroe Republic flags on either side of the fireplace, with a portrait of Monroe himself hanging above it. It's like a shrine to a dictator.

"Mrs Matheson and I eat at eight, twelve, and six. Got that?"

"Yes, sir."

"If Mrs Matheson wants something, whatever you're doing, you will see to it for her. You'll be up before her, you'll go to bed after her. Wine, ice, anything she wants, you make sure that she has it. You understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Monroe calls to the soldier outside, "Show her to her quarters."

I follow the soldier upstairs to a bare room with a bed against the wall. He slams the door behind him, and I sit down, fighting back the tears again. It wouldn't be so difficult if I wasn't exhausted from being on the road all day, but I am, and the awful things I've seen, the dark, hostile atmosphere of the house...It just overwhelms me and I hear myself crying. _Stupid, stupid, you promised you wouldn't do this..._

The door opens gently, and a woman with reddish-blonde hair, about forty years old, stands in the doorway. She looks concerned, I mean really concerned, not faking it like Monroe. Her face clearly says, "What's wrong?"

I brush the tears away fiercely, but more come so I stop trying. "I'm sorry. I'm a baby," I sob.

"No. It's okay." She sits down next to me on the bed and looks at me. "How old are you?"

"Thirteen," I sniff.

"Thirteen...and...are you the new housekeeper?"

"Yeah."

She mutters something that sounds like, "Bass, you son of a bitch," under her breath.

"What's your name?"

"Lola." She's wearing silk pyjamas, so I say, "Are you Mrs Matheson?"

"Silk pyjamas give me away?" I nod, even laughing a little.

"Don't worry. I'm a prisoner here, too. Bass – General Monroe – thinks that if he gives me enough pretty things, I'll fall madly in love with him."

My eyes widen. "Really?" Ugh, Monroe has a crush on his "guest". I would so not want to be her.

"He also seems to think I know something about the Blackout."

I was too upset to think about it earlier, but her name, Rachel Matheson - and the Blackout! It's Dad's missing scientist. Has to be. I hide my surprise, though, because whoever she is, I still don't know this woman well enough to trust her. One false step and Monroe could find out who I really am – and if he does, he'll be sure to use me as a hostage, forcing Dad to surrender. Then any chance of bringing back the United States will be gone. For good. I guess since she says Monroe _thinks _she knows something, that means she doesn't trust me either, yet. But I'll make her see that she can. Because we're both prisoners, and because now – the key to fighting Monroe is right here with me.


	10. Bad News

RACHEL – THE NEXT MORNING

I drum my pen on the table as I try to work out how to convince Bass to send Lola home. This morning, while bringing me some brandy, she saw a militia who had been executed by firing squad, riddled with bullet holes, being carried past the room. It ended up with _me_ giving _her _brandy as she nearly collapsed onto the floor. And that, she tells me, is not the first example of militia brutality she's seen. If Bass really loves me, if our friendship ever meant anything to him, can I persuade him to let Lola go? Is there anything left of the man I once knew? I guess there's only one way to find out, as Bass comes in with Lola trailing behind him.

"Morning, Rachel. This is Lola." Of course, he doesn't know we've already met. "I've told her anything you want – wine, ice, she'll get it for you."

"Thank you, Bass," I say. "What more could I _possibly _ask for?" To see my kids? A few weeks without torture?

"Lola, I need to speak to Mrs Matheson in private," Bass says, dismissing her.

"I've got some bad news, Rachel," he says. "Ben's dead."

My first instinct is to call him a liar.

"I wish I was lying."

I fight back tears as the reality sinks in. But I still can't stop a quiver in my voice when I say, "I take it you're the one who killed him?"

"Believe me, it's the last thing I wanted - "

I abruptly stand up and turn away, clenching my fists to stop myself flying at him. Why kill Ben? Was he afraid of competition? No, Bass wouldn't drag the whole Monroe Republic army out to Sylvania Estates unless it was something to do with the Blackout. Ben must've refused to cooperate, so Bass killed him.

"I've got some more news, Rachel. We have your son."

A blinding flash of rage overwhelms me; I grab my pen and fly at Bass, but he uses his Marine training to get me in a chokehold.

"No more games, Rachel," he snarls. "If you want to see your son again, you're going to tell me everything. Everything I want to know."

Since I came to Independence Hall, I've always played the cool, detached woman. I can't stand for any of these murderers - these monsters, to think I'm weak. But that night, as I lie awake thinking of Ben and my little boy, alone with the Monroe militia, I break down crying.

The door creaks open gently, and Lola stands in the doorway, holding her kerosene lamp. She sits down on the bed and pulls me into her arms. I can't stop crying, so I have no choice but to let a thirteen-year-old girl play therapist. "I'm sorry," I sob. "You shouldn't have to deal with this."

"Hey, it's OK. You did the same for me yesterday, remember?" I let her hold me for a little longer, comforted by the one good person I've seen in a decade. When I pull away, she says, "I'm really sorry about your husband. But listen. The Rebels are going to march on Independence Hall."

"What?"

"They'll come here, they'll bring Monroe down and then you and your son will be free. I promise."

"H-how do you know all this?"

Lola shakes her head. "I can't tell you. But trust me, they're coming." Of course she doesn't trust _me_ yet – which means there's more to her than I thought. She knows she's in the lions' den and that she can't be too careful. But how did the Rebels find out where Bass is hiding, and how does Lola know about it? And why is there something familiar about her? My head is starting to spin with all this new information, so I say to her, "Go back to bed now. I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Goodnight."

"'Night." She takes her lamp and heads back down the hallway.


	11. Little Girl, Lost In The Woods

MILES 

"So, how do you suggest we get those guns?" I ask Nora.

Nora rolls her eyes. "Well, thanks to you we'll have to wait until morning, till the warden calms down again. Then I'll come up with something."

"Right." I roll over in my sleeping bag, wondering how Nora intends to pull this off. Us, versus ten gun-wielding militia? This isn't difficult territory, this is impossible territory. Damn.

The next morning, I see Nora making something – it looks like a mini-gun. Not improving our chances.

"You're gonna shoot the warden with that?"

"Not exactly a Colt .45, but it'll do the trick," Nora replies.

"That thing'll only work from a foot away. How do we get close enough?"

"We sneak up."

"In broad daylight?" I sigh. "They know what you look like, and as for me – they'll shoot on sight."

"Then I'll do it." I look up to see Charlie standing there. "Some innocent girl, lost in the woods. I could get close."

Nora grins. "I like her."

"Forget it," I say.

"It's a good idea, Miles," Nora says. "She takes out the warden, you and I take out the rest."

"You can't do it," I point out to Charlie. "You, who bitched about me killing in cold blood? You will choke."

"It's not about the guns!" Charlie bursts out. "It's about the thirty innocent people down there, working as slaves. And it's insane that neither of you have mentioned it." She looks sharply at Nora. "So, what do I have to do?"

Nora ties the makeshift gun to Charlie's wrist, and she conceals it in her jacket. Ten minutes later, Nora and I head for the militia camp. Charlie did it! The warden is dead on the ground, and immediately the other soldiers rush us. We gut them before they have time to shoot. Almost. I hear a shot and turn to see Nora doubled over. I kill the soldier who fired the shot and then set Nora down on a tree stump. I look at the wound. With the bandage I put around her waist, it should be okay. Then, I help Charlie uncuff the prisoners and load the dead soldiers' guns onto the wagon pulled by two horses. Two of the prisoners show me the United States flag – the Rebel symbol – and I watch, reluctantly, as the most powerful weapons post-Blackout trot away down the road.

"We could really have used those guns," I point out crossly to Nora.

Nora smiles. "Tell that to a panicked father." She means Ramsey, of course.

"How old is Commander Ramsey's daughter?" Charlie asks.

"Thirteen," Nora says.

Charlie looks horrified. "The militia would take someone so young?"

"Yeah," I say. "And the best part? Monroe will use her as a hostage against Ramsey."

"No, they won't," says Nora. "Lola's smart. She won't use her real name while they've got her. If she had, the rebellion would be over by now."

Charlie's lip is quivering again. "Can we help her?"

"If they're taking Danny to Monroe, we can," Nora says. "And we'll get Rachel Matheson out at the same time."

"Nora, Rachel died five years ago," I point out.

"Yeah, well, the Rebel spies at Independence Hall say different."

Charlie's lip is really quivering now. "M-my mom's alive?"

"Yes."

**A/N: Sorry I didn't update yesterday, but our internet connection conked out. I hope you're enjoying my story, and yes I am building to something. I promise! **


	12. Friendship

LOLA

I've been at Independence Hall for a while now. General Monroe doesn't treat me too badly. As long as his rooms are clean and his dinner is on time, he mostly ignores me. And I've thought of a way to deal with the things I see around me every day. If I see a flogged or dead soldier, or accidentally walk in on Monroe drunk or having sex with a prostitute, I turn away quickly before I can take it in. If I didn't see it, it never happened. Right?

Funny enough, there are some good parts about being here. The first part is that that creep Strausser won't go near me. He keeps fingering his collar nervously when he sees me, as if he's scared I'll slit his throat for real one day. The second part is Rachel. Rachel is the only person here who is friendly toward me. She insisted I start calling her Rachel after telling me she knows my dad.

"Who is my dad?" I asked her, just to make sure.

"Wayne Ramsey," she replied.

"Y-you won't tell anyone, will you?" I asked, nervously. By then I did trust her – almost. I just can't be too careful what I say to people at Independence Hall.

"No, I won't tell anyone."

"How do you know who I am?"

"I remember your mom. She looks just like you." Yeah, a lot of people say that about me and my mom.

"But how do you know Dad?"

"We were working on something together. You won't like it, but it's something I think you should know." She pulled a black book from under the table, and opened it to a page with a drawing on it.

"This," she said, "is what caused the Blackout. The machine that I, Ben, and your father built."

"Dad was a scientist?"

"Did he ever show you a pendant?" Rachel asked me. "A silver necklace, like this one?" She flipped the page over to another drawing. Yes, the silver pendant Dad wears. He would let me hold it when I was little, but I was never allowed to play with it. Now I knew why. Because it's important.

"These pendants can turn any piece of electrical equipment on. There are only twelve of them, which is why each of us – the people who worked on the machine – can only carry one at a time. We have to make sure Monroe doesn't get his hands on these pendants."

It was then that I realised I could trust Rachel. I knew then that she hated the Monroe Republic, too. And that she was one of Dad's allies. But this somehow didn't square with her helping to make the Blackout happen. I'm not desperate to get electricity back, unlike so many adults round here, but without the Blackout, there wouldn't be a Monroe Republic.

"We thought we were making a cleaner energy source with this machine. Your dad ever tell you what a "car" is?"

"Yeah."

"Well, we thought we could give cars and other vehicles this clean energy source to run on, then it would stop polluting the atmosphere. But then one day, it shut down all the power in the area. That was when Ben and I realised – it could cause a worldwide Blackout if it became too powerful. And unfortunately, one of our friends did make it too powerful."

"Who?"

"Randall Flynn. The head of the Department of Defense."

"The organization in charge of defending the US?"

"That's right."

Per General Monroe's instructions, I was keeping Rachel company that night until she decided to go to bed. Every night I sit up with her and we talk about things, like our families. Or sometimes Rachel lets me see more of the black book, and tells me more about electricity and what it can do. I never knew it could stop people dying of war wounds! Rachel is very kind and always looking out for me, but not in a patronising way. And she makes me laugh. I just wish I could help her. She's so brave, sitting in a prison, not allowed to see her kids, but still snarking at Monroe. She's not afraid of him – _at all_. Of course, she's valuable to him because she knows things about the Blackout, but still...

"Don't forget to lock your door tonight, will you?" Rachel says as she gets into bed. Strausser might have stopped sexually harassing me, but now the other militia have taken over that job. Why did I ever want boobs? I swear I would chop them off if I could.

"You know, Bass hated what Strausser tried to do to you. I know you don't like Bass, but if you talk to him about those militia - "

"No. I won't hide behind anyone." Running to someone else to solve my problems? Hiding behind an evil dictator? No way.

Rachel sits up in bed. "Lola?"

"Yeah?"

"You just officially proved you're Wayne Ramsey's daughter."


	13. Shawshank

CHARLIE

As Nora leads us to the Rebel camp, I'm still trying to figure it out. If Mom is alive, then why would she stay away? From me, and from Danny, too? And why is she with Monroe? My thoughts are cut off by the click of crossbows. We're surrounded.

An unarmed man comes up to one of the crossbow-wielding men and pats his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, it's okay." The men lower their crossbows and then Nora runs to the unarmed man.

"Nicholas!" she says as they hug.

"Nora. Thank God."

"These are my friends," Nora says, gesturing to me and Miles.

"I'm Stu Redman," Miles says. "And this," he says pointing to me, "is Franny."

_Franny_? Couldn't he have come up with a better name? I roll my eyes and follow him inside the Rebel camp. What I see horrifies me. There are around twenty people on stretchers, coughing and bleeding. Only two or three Rebels are left to tend to the wounded. A woman pressing on a man's stomach calls to me, "Hey, you! Little help!" I run over to them. The woman takes her hands off the man's stomach and gestures for me to take her place. As I look down I see that the man is actually a boy around Danny's age. He tries to whisper something in my ear, but I can't hear anything. Then he gasps, falls back...and dies. A moment later, I turn around to see Miles standing there.

"This," he says, pointing to the dead boy, "is what being a Rebel gets you."

Later, Miles and Nora walk over to me.

"We did it, okay?" Miles snaps at Nora. "We delivered your guns to your whiny-ass Rebels. Guns we really could have used. Now it's time to get moving."

"Look around you!" Nora yells at him. "These people are hurt."

"You don't get it! That was a kill order. The militia's gonna be hunting for them. It's not safe."

"All the more reason to get them up and out of here!"

Miles points at me. "We're supposed to be looking for her brother, remember?"

"Exactly," I say. "So this is my call."

Miles glares at me. "Excuse me?"

"How much time do you need?" I ask Nora.

"A half hour, tops," she says.

"That's a promise?"

Miles groans. "Oh, you are joking. All you ever say is, "We need to find Danny. We need to find Danny." That clock is ticking."

"You said we needed Nora – _needed _her – to get Danny back. Those were your exact words." I want to help these people, but Miles is right – we need Nora. If we keep helping her, then she'll keep helping us. "She's staying, and so am I. And you can do whatever you want." Miles stalks off, but he doesn't leave the camp.

A few minutes later, I tend to a boy called Sam. He's skinny and reminds me of a boy I once protected from a bully when I was a kid. The bully broke a bone in the same place as Sam's injury, but I still managed to knock his front teeth out. "Remind me never to pick a fight with you," Sam laughs as I tell him this.

Twenty minutes later, those of us who can stand are assembled before Nicholas. "Put as much distance between you and here as possible," he tells us. We don't know each other, we don't talk to each other - low profile. Two months from today, we'll rendezvous at Bloomington Base."

BANG! A shot whistles behind us. Then two shots, then three, then four...Miles pushes me to the ground and ducks beside me. Then I look up, and Sam is lying dead on the ground, shot through the stomach. I kneel beside him, with my hands on his shoulders. I was talking to him twenty minutes ago, and he's gone! I sit there limply until Nora comes up. "Charlie, Sam was a sweet kid, but you can't lose it. Not now. I need your help. Miles has had an idea."

I drag myself to my feet and we walk up to Miles, who appears to be scraping at the cement in one of the brick walls. Then he pulls one of the bricks out.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"There are a lot of men out there," he replies. "And sooner or later, they're coming in. So we," he says, digging at another brick, "are gonna Shawshank our asses out of here."

"Shawshank?"

Miles rolls his eyes because I don't understand his pop culture reference. "We're _digging a tunnel_, Charlie."

Nora and I, along with Nicholas and the other Rebels still standing, use what we have to help dig the tunnel. Some of us have to break the legs off chairs, but we do it. The crossbowman must be really good, because it's nightfall by the time we've finished, and the militia have stopped firing on us. We have to push and pull the wounded through the tunnel, and when we get out, there's just one militia, cowering against an old trash can. Miles grins. He actually _grins _at seeing this man.

"Jeremy, you are like a bad penny, man."

As we frogmarch Jeremy into the camp, I ask myself how does Miles even know this guy?

"Nora. Rope," Miles says as he shoves Jeremy into a chair. Nora ties him up.

"We can trade him," Miles says. "His life, for Ramsey's kid. And mine," he says, "for Rachel and Danny."

"What?" I can't believe I'm hearing this.

"Oh, you don't know, do you?" Jeremy says. "Monroe would give his right arm to capture his former general."

I have no words.


	14. Running Again

MILES

Charlie turns on me immediately. "So this is why every person we meet wants to kill you - and us?"

Then Nicholas is in my face. "I ought to slit your throat!"

"Whoa, Padre, I thought you were all about forgiveness."

"Christ forgives! I'm not Christ."

Charlie turns to Nora. "You knew this whole time?!" Nora nods, eyes down.

"Wait a minute!" Nicholas shouts at her. "You brought Miles Matheson in here _on purpose_?"

"Okay, okay!" I say. "Be pissed. But right now, we got bigger fish. We go to Philly, we trade, then you get outta there."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You think Monroe's going to release the rebel leader's daughter, the only person capable of turning the power back on, and her son? No, the rules have changed, Miles. You should know; you made them."

"So? What does Monroe want?"

"You. Just you. No bargaining, no trades. Or," he says, "you can let those guys outside blow you all to hell." I look outside and there are thirty, forty militia there. Damn, I knew the last battle was too easy.

They tether me to a horse and we set off for Philadelphia. "You know, Monroe hasn't been the same since you left," Jeremy says as he rides alongside me. "He's angrier, more - "

BAM! An explosion knocks me onto the floor and clouds my vision. I turn round to see Charlie running towards me. She amazes me again by taking out the guy standing near me, then we run for it.

After walking through the woods for two hours without Charlie telling me I'm a monster, I'm confused. "Come on, let's hear it," I say to Charlie. "Tell me I'm scum. Garbage. Or whatever."

"I'm not gonna say that."

_Huh? _

"Because I don't believe it."

Oh, wow. This kid really is nuts.

"You saved all those people back there. So there must still be a part of you that gives a crap."

Whoa. Did Charlie just curse? She must really mean what she's saying.

A week later and we're finally in Lowell, Indiana. "Charlie!" Maggie cries out when she sees her. She runs to Charlie and hugs her – and Charlie hugs her back. And here's me thinking Charlie couldn't stand the chick. "This is Nora," Charlie says to Maggie and Aaron.

"And this is who's going up against the militia," Nora says to them. "Really."

I look at them all; a green village girl, a chubby computer geek and a doctor. "Now you see what I mean," I say to Nora.

"Uh, Miles?" says Aaron. "We're standing right here."

We walk through an abandoned amusement park that night, with me holding a flaming torch to guide us. I spin the torch around when I hear a noise. A slurping, munching kind of noise. I follow the noise to two dogs feasting on a deer carcass. They're hungry – no, they're ravenous. And they don't look happy when they see us. "Run!" I yell to everyone.

We race for a nearby fence, with the dogs close at our heels. One of them bites Aaron on the leg as he tries to climb over the fence, and won't let go until Maggie grabs Charlie's crossbow and shoots it. I drag Aaron over the fence and help him limp over to a nearby dumpster to sit. While Maggie bandages his leg, I stand next to Nora. "I'm gonna leave," I tell her.

"Excuse me?"

"It's better for everyone. Better for Charlie," I tell her.

"It's better for everyone. Better for Charlie."

"It's better for you!" Nora yells. "You're the same selfish dick, with the same crap excuses, and whenever you get close to anyone, you take off!"

Wow. She's nailed me right there. But I can't do this anymore, I just...can't. Things happen to the people I care about. Bad things. It happened to Ben, it happened to Rachel, and sooner or later, it's going to happen to Charlie. That's what I tell myself. But really, I'm just running again.


	15. The Butcher Of Baltimore

LOLA

We sit in the luxury suite, Rachel and I, looking at the black book, but I can't get into it this time. Instead, I stare at the moon through the tall window opposite me. I feel like I've been here for years, and I know it's been a while. Supposing nobody comes for me after all?

"Lola?" Rachel looks at me with her knowing smile. She can tell that something's on my mind. Just like a mom. I miss my mom. I do.

"It's just – I don't think my dad is coming for us," I say.

"He's been tearing his way through militia camps on the road to Philadelphia. He wouldn't move so fast if he didn't have any motivation."

_That's true_, I think to myself. But can I really hold out till he gets here? I feel so helpless, not being able to do anything brave or heroic because it could get me killed. I want to do what the heroes do in stories. I want to walk up to General Monroe, deliver a witty comment, then duel him and rescue Rachel. But I'm just a stupid little girl, with no fighting skills to protect myself or Rachel. I hate it.

I'm jerked out of my thoughts when I hear the door handle turning. Rachel thrusts the black book at me and I take it to its hiding-place as General Monroe comes through the door.

"Evening, Rachel," he says, in his soft voice. "Can't sleep?"

"What do you want, Bass?" she asks him, in a tired voice.

"What do I _want_?" he repeats. "Oh, Rachel, as if you don't know. As if you don't know what I've always wanted." I shudder, knowing he's not just talking about the Blackout.

Rachel sighs. "Do we really have to play this game? You've asked me these questions a hundred times."

"And I'm going to ask you again. What was Ben working on?"

"Ben was an algebra teacher," Rachel says as she always does. This is how the "game" starts.

"If Ben was an algebra teacher," Monroe says as _he _always does, "then why was he working for the Department of Defense? Why did he have full SAP clearance? And why, on the night of the Blackout, did he call Miles to tell him the power was going out – five seconds before it did?" He points at her and smiles. "Ben knew why the lights went out. And he knew how to turn 'em back on." This is part of the game too, where he pretends like this is new information and he's so clever to figure it out.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rachel says.

Monroe starts to pace up and down. "Haven't I been a good host to you, Rachel?" he demands, as I finish sorting the books and sit down next to her. "I mean, I haven't put you in a dungeon, I haven't killed you." I find myself nervously squeezing Rachel's hand.

"It's out of respect," Monroe continues. "To you, and to our friendship."

Rachel says nothing. Monroe makes a sign toward the door, and Strausser comes in. As he comes closer I can see he carries a set of tools. Sharp, ugly-looking tools.

"No. Please, no!" I cry, throwing my arms around Rachel, even though there's nothing I can do to protect her.

Rachel pulls my arms down gently and lifts my chin to look at her. "Lola, listen. I need you to go now."

"I can't," I sob. Bad enough they torture her – now Monroe's letting Strausser do it? I can't leave her alone with him. I can't.

Rachel looks me straight in the eyes and says quietly, "Listen to me. You can't do anything – except _go_. Or they'll just hurt you too." Her grey eyes are brimming over.

I nod, slowly, as I come to my senses. Yes, Monroe will kill me if I try to protect Rachel – _try _because I'm as powerless as her. I leave the room, tears spilling down my face, as I wish for the fighting skills of Miles Matheson. Butcher of Baltimore or not, no-one would mess with Rachel if I could fight like him.


	16. Rage

RACHEL – THE MORNING AFTER

I sit on my expensive brocaded sofa as Bass comes in the door, hiding the searing pain in my arms and legs. Lola has bandaged me up as best she can, but she's no doctor.

"Back for more questions?" I ask him.

"Oh, just one question, Rachel. What kind of a mother are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You abandoned your children, left them with Ben. Did it even hurt?"

He starts to play with my hair and I pull away. Then he yanks me back by my hair, forcing me to look at him.

"Are you too cold of a bitch to feel anything?!" he screams in my face. "I kept you alive, I gave you beautiful clothes, books and now you can't even stand for me to touch you?!"

I say nothing. He punches me to the floor, removes his belt with his sword and straddles me, ripping at my silk shirt.

"You. Are. An Ungrateful. Bitch," he yells, ripping with each emphasis. "But I'll teach you – oh, Rachel, I'll teach you some RESPECT, dammit!"

He unzips his pants and I start to struggle frantically, but I'm no match for a hard-muscled Marine. He punches me one more time to subdue me, then stands to remove his boxers. Then a blade appears through his chest, and he gasps, frozen to the spot before he falls to the ground, revealing an equally shocked Lola, who holds his sword in her hand.

**A/N: Yep, I told you I was building to something! I know that Monroe's death so early is a real game-changer, and I'll try to handle it as best I can for a rookie writer. I'll be back after my ten days' holiday with a new chapter! **


	17. Escape

LOLA

I start to shake all over at the thought of what I've just done. I killed someone. I actually took someone's life. And the militia will kill me and Rachel for it.

The shaking nearly turns to sobbing before Rachel seizes hold of my wrists. "Lola, you can't do this right now, okay? We have to get out of here. Pack your stuff and enough food for two people for a week. Go."

I am numb as I do all that she told me. I make sandwiches, fill water bottles, and pack my things without a thought or even a feeling. I still can't believe what just happened.

"Right," Rachel says to a still numb me, "we need a distraction. Lola, I want you to scream that Monroe has had a heart attack. Scream for help."

So I do. "Help! General Monroe has collapsed!" I yell out the window to the soldiers. Sure enough, they come running inside. The window is deliberately opened enough to let in some air but not for anyone to climb out. Rachel grabs a vase and throws it against the window, smashing it. We climb out, almost falling off of the thin ledges, and race towards a path under some trees before the soldiers come back.

Once we're safely away, we sit against a large tree trunk and catch our breath. Having time to relax is not good for me though, as my sobs come thick and fast before they turn into hysterics. Rachel pulls me into her arms and tries to calm me. "Shh, it's OK. It's OK Lola," she says.

"No, it isn't!" I sob. "It isn't okay to kill people, it isn't okay to lock them away from their families – it's not okay at all!" Rachel says nothing, but just holds me as all my miserable, scared and angry feelings come out.

After what seems like hours, I finally stop crying. Just in time for a militia soldier to collar me.


	18. Desperation

RACHEL

I wait for the militia soldier to drag Lola a short distance away from me before I hit him with the heavy tree branch. He falls to the floor, unconscious, and there's no time to spare as more soldiers appear. We run, and then come to a sudden halt when we see that we're right on the wall of Philadelphia, near the bridge. Below us is the river and its rushing current. The militia are gaining on us – fast. There's only one thing to do. I turn to Lola.

"Lola," I say gently, "I know you're scared right now, but - " I've no time to finish my sentence before she pulls me into the river.

**A/N: Sorry if this chapter's a bit short, but I've had a lot of things to do today. Stay tuned for Chapter 19!**


	19. There's No Place Like Home

MAGGIE

The morning after our run-in with the dogs, we set off again, and I'm inwardly fuming because Miles has just told me he's leaving. He's leaving Charlie, his own niece, his family. It frustrates me, because I know there's more to him than that. So I decide to tell him my story.

"I spent years trying to get back to my boys. Until...I gave up. I realised I would never see my kids again. I know they probably died – alone, scared, crying for their mother. So, I sat down by a lake and poured myself a nice cold cup of poison. And then, of all people, your brother found me."

Miles looks up from the floor for the first time all morning when he hears this.

"I think Ben saw something desperate in my eyes."

"Yeah...that sounds like Ben," Miles says quietly. I can see that my story is affecting him, even if he won't admit it.

"I met his kids," I continue. "I came to love them. Ben and his kids, they...they gave me a reason to live. They saved my life, Miles. They saved me. And if you give that girl half a chance," I say, "then maybe she can do the same for you."

A little while later, we're walking out of the fairground when the dogs appear again. Miles, completely calm, says, "There's a diner right behind us. On the count of three, we haul ass. Okay?"

The dogs are gaining on us fast and Miles skips from one to three before we run. Then I suddenly feel a pair of strong hairy arms holding me in a vice-like grip. I desperately try to wrestle his knife from him, but then he suddenly stabs me in the leg. Through the mist of pain I hear the words, _You killed my dog_.

"Hey!" I hear Miles yell. The man runs off, startled, as Miles rounds the corner and picks me up. I know the man severed an artery and I'm bleeding out. Miles carries me into the diner and puts me in a sitting position on the floor.

"Maggie, what happened?" Charlie asks me.

"There's a guy out there," Miles replies for me. "Maggie, what did he say?"

"He said...I killed his dog."

Miles rolls his eyes. "Great. It's not just a pack of strays out there; they belong to that psycho. They're his attack dogs."

"How the hell do we get out with them up there?" Aaron asks Miles.

"Nora and I will get up on the roof, hopscotch over a few buildings," Miles replies.

"To do what?" Aaron demands to know.

"I'm gonna find this whack job, and he's gonna call off his mutts. Come on, Nora." They crawl through a vent near the kitchen together.

"He severed an artery. I'm bleeding out," I say to Aaron and Charlie.

"What can we do to help?" Charlie asks desperately as she tries to keep pressure on the wound.

"Leave," I say. "You have to leave." I know I'm dying – I can feel it. So I just want Charlie to get to Danny and save him.

"Maggie, no way," Aaron says.

"You're wasting time here," I say.

"We'll get Danny back," Charlie says. "_All _of us, together."

"If you lost him because of me, I'd never forgive myself! Charlie, please."

"Maggie," Charlie replies, "I know I haven't been...easy. My mom was gone, and then you were there."

"It's all right, Charlie, I understand," I tell her.

"You were _there_," she repeats. "Kind, protective, annoying..." She gives a small laugh. "The least I can do is give you a taste of your own medicine. "We're staying."

I nod. "Alright, there's a sewing needle in my bag, and some clamps that look like scissors. You need to stitch up the artery, but you'll need to sterilise everything first. I think...Miles has some whisky."

Charlie takes Miles's backpack and stands next to the vent while she searches for the whisky. Then a pair of hands appear and pull her through the vent. "Charlie!" I scream.

Even as Aaron stitches me up, even as I frantically worry about Charlie, I can feel myself slipping away. I think I black out for a few moments before I see Charlie, running back to see if I'm alright, without a second thought to what she herself has just been through. I'm so proud of her.

"You saved me, Charlie," I tell her.

"That's right. We're going to save you," she says.

"No...you _saved _me." Yes, she, and Ben, and Danny saved me, saved me from myself and my guilt over my boys.

"No, don't talk like that! You're gonna be okay."

"I've lost too much blood," I tell her. "And...I'd like my phone."

I don't know who hands me my iPhone, but as I look at it, I can see my boys. We're sitting in our living-room as I read their favourite story to them – _The Wizard Of Oz_. "And so, Dorothy took Toto in her arms, clicked the heels of her shoes together three times and said, "There's no place like home.""

Then I see Charlie crying. "Maggie please, please don't leave me! Everybody leaves me, please don't!" Then I see Miles bend down and pull Charlie into his arms.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says to her. "I'm not gonna leave." Then I close my eyes, knowing that my girl is safe.


	20. Reunion

CHARLIE

We bury Maggie in the forest, with large rocks and a cross made out of wood. I stand there for what Miles later tells me was a whole half hour. I spent years hating Maggie, ignoring her, and just when I realise how much she did for me and Danny, she's gone.

"Look," says Miles, coming up to me, "Maggie's dead. Just a body in the ground now."

I'm about to go for him – I mean really go for him – when he says, "But Danny's still alive. He's close. And if you want him back, you can't do this."

My head flies up. _Danny_. For the past twenty-four hours, I'd completely forgotten about him. That's never happened, not since I was five and Mom told me to take care of him, to be a big sister. Yeah, I'm his big sister, and I've got to be mature about this. Miles is right. I grab my backpack and follow the others.

A few hours later, we come to a rushing stream. Face down on the ground, a little way away from the stream, are two people. I run to them as Miles yells at me, "Charlie, they're dead," and I know he's rolling his eyes and giving in as he runs to help the girl with long, dark brown hair.

Miles pumps the water from the girl's lungs and she sits up. She looks around twelve or thirteen years old. The woman on the ground next to me, who has blonde hair, suddenly coughs up water and sits up. Then turns to me.

"Mom?" I gasp.


	21. Mother And Daughter

RACHEL

"Ch-Charlie?" I can't believe that the first thing I'm seeing, as I regain consciousness, is my daughter. My little girl, who I haven't seen in years. I go to hug her, but she backs away like I'm a stranger to her. Of course. She thinks I abandoned her. "This – this is going to be hard to understand," I stammer, "but - "

"Mom, you need to stop." Charlie's eyes flash at me. "Danny's less than 24 hours away from us. So you are going to stop, and we are going to get him back." And then I realise – Charlie is not the little girl I left behind all those years ago. She's grown up.

I hear Lola grunt as she gets to her feet. Lola! She's alive! I grab her and hug her. Then over my shoulder, I see Charlie staring at us resentfully. "Who is this?" she snaps, pointing to Lola.

"This is Lola," I say. "She's my friend." Charlie still scowls at Lola. She obviously thinks that Lola is a replacement for her and Danny.

"So, you found another family, away from me, Dad and Danny?" Charlie inquires coldly.

"No, Charlie, it's not like that," Lola protests, quick to defend me as always. "Rachel would never have left you, not without - " I raise my hand to stop her. The explanation has to come from me.

"I was trying to do the right thing," I say to Charlie. "You know me and your dad built the machine that caused the Blackout?" Charlie gives a curt nod, remembering the "accident" I told her about when she was ten. "Well, Monroe realised that me and your dad knew something about the Blackout; he thought that one of us could turn the lights back on. And then someone - " I shoot a glance at Miles – "in the militia, found out where we were living. They said that either me, or your dad, would have to surrender to them, or they'd kill all of us. So, I went to Monroe. To protect you, and Danny, and your dad." Charlie doesn't respond. She simply gives another curt nod. Then she says to Miles, "Let's go."

"Wait, Charlie!" cries Lola, but I put my hand on her arm to hold her back. Lola looks confused. "I don't understand. Why would she storm off after you explained everything to her?" Of course, Lola doesn't understand. She's thirteen years old. Everything is still black and white for her; in her eyes, since I explained to Charlie that I had good reason to leave, I should be instantly forgiven. Lola doesn't realise that things aren't that simple. Charlie's feelings won't go away overnight. Though I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms, cry, hug her and promise to never leave her again, I have to give Charlie some space.

I see Miles staring at me and now I have to ask him how he got here, how Charlie is talking to him like a normal person instead of the person in our family we should all be ashamed of.

"I've changed, Rachel," he says. "I know you probably don't believe me, but I'm here to help. I mean it," he says, addressing Lola as well. "Listen, kid," he says to her, "I know you've heard God knows how many stories about me, but - "

"You're Miles Matheson? _The _Miles Matheson?" Lola sounds surprised, but not frightened. Then she says, "I believe you. And I want you to teach me how to fight, like you." Miles and I just stare at each other.


	22. Power

LOLA

Rachel and Miles stare at me like I grew another head. I guess they would, since I'm only thirteen. Nobody seems to think a thirteen-year-old can fight. But I have to fight. I need to. Not just to defend myself on the road, but because I can't stand people being hurt anymore, with me not being able to do a thing about it. I couldn't protect Rachel from those torturers at Independence Hall, and I couldn't stop Monroe's soldiers from executing those people who had a United States flag outside their houses. I had to just stand there, biting my lip and clenching my fists, for months. I can't do that anymore.

"Lola, you are _not_ learning how to use weapons," Rachel says, just as I expected. I turn to Miles. Since he seems to be more practical, maybe he'll say yes.

"Please," I say to him, "I want to learn how to fight. Please."

He shakes his head at me. Ugh...why is _every_ adult like this? "I turned kids not much older than you into Monroe militia. I can't teach you to fight like them. I'm sorry..." I throw up my hands and walk off. Then I see her, sharpening her sword on a rock. It's Nora!

"Nora!" I squeal, running to her.

"Lola? Oh, thank God." Nora is always with my dad because she's his second-in-command. I've known her pretty much all my life.

"This is Aaron," she says, as a chubby man with a bushy beard steps out from behind a tree. I shake hands with him. "Uh...it's nice to meet you too. But Nora, what is she doing with us? It's not safe."

I think about explaining it to him, but my instinct not to trust easily kicks in again. "Um...it's complicated."

"It's okay," Nora says. "You can trust him."

"I'll tell you all later, when we're all together," I say.

Later, as we make our way through the forest, I tell everyone what happened. I leave out some of the details, like Rachel being tortured, to spare Charlie's feelings. I also leave out the bit about Miles being the one who forced Rachel to turn herself in, knowing it would only make things bad between Charlie and Miles. Funny enough, I'm not angry with Miles for the things he did. All I can think is this: We need him. _I _need him. I'm desperate – desperate to protect myself from scum like Strausser, and to protect Rachel as well.

There's only one person left who I might be able to convince to teach me how to fight – and that's Nora. "Will you teach me how to fight?" I ask her.

"No," she says, "I can't do that."

I want to scream at the top of my lungs. Nobody will help me!

"Your dad would never forgive me if anything happened to you."

"And _I_ will never forgive myself if anything else happens to Rachel!" I shout back.

"It's not your responsibility to protect her!"

"YES IT IS!" I scream back at her.

Nora sighs. "Look, I know you've spent the last few months taking care of Rachel. But you don't need to protect her. We're here now, me and Miles. We can do it."

Before I can say anything I hear a strange sound. Something between a whirr and a whistle. It's loud. And it's close. We peer through the trees.

"It's a train!" That's Aaron. "Oh my God, oh my God, this is _not _good."

A train? So this is what they look like in real life. I feel a lump in the pit of my stomach when I realise what this means. The Monroe Republic has harnessed the power of steam. The Rebels were winning, but now they'll lose. Then Charlie gives a gasp at the blond boy two militia are dragging onto a train.

"It's Danny!"


	23. Between Loyalty And Hate

PVT RICHARDS

As I drag Danny towards the train with Joe's help, I can't help thinking what'll happen when we reach Philly. Danny is Rachel Matheson's kid, so of course, he'll get five-star treatment from that slimy bastard Monroe, while my best friend Simon rots in a hole in the ground. I don't even know why I stay with the militia. I'm not even sure if I believe in the great cause that Captain Neville is fighting for. I was conscripted, like pretty much everyone else on the train, and then, the Monroe militia was just something I did. Something I keep doing, even though I'm not sure why.

As I sit next to Danny in the train car, I hear a drumming on the roof. Feet running. That can't be good.

"Intruders!" someone on the roof yells, before the choking grunt that means they were killed. Danny's tied up, so I run out and look up at the roof. It's Miles Matheson, standing over the soldier's dead body. For a moment I stare open-mouthed. What the hell is Miles Matheson doing here? I thought he died five years ago.

Then a girl appears at the door, around twenty with light brown hair. I see Captain Neville as well, struggling with the girl. "Danny!" she yells at him.

"Charlie!" he yells back. Captain Neville starts throttling the girl, then some twelve-year-old girl comes up behind him and hits him over the head with a log. I rush at her and punch her to the ground. Course, being twelve years old she starts crying like a little bitch. "Shut up!" I yell, kicking her in the stomach. She rolls over, groaning. Then a blow to my head turns the world black.

When I wake up, I'm lying on one of the three-seaters. Three Captain Nevilles, then two, then one finally appear as my blurred vision adjusts.

Captain Neville smiles at me. "Well done, son. Thanks to you, Danny is still with us. But I'm afraid I've got some bad news."

"Sir?"

"General Monroe, our president, is dead."

A wave of joy spreads over my entire body. Now that Danny's no longer useful, I can kill him.

"I was informed by one of our intruders. Now, we must get home and give our president a good Christian burial."

"And Danny, sir?"

"Danny has potential, don't you think? Escaped twice, and nearly choked you to death. I think he'd make a great militia. We'll see what the conscript boat can do for him."

"I'll never join you," Danny spits. Captain Neville hits him to make him quiet. "The 3rd will escort Danny to Martins Ferry." Damn, I'm 5th regiment. I can feel my blood boiling. So Danny's not getting executed. I don't get to kill him. And I'll be too far away to even try. There's only one thing for it.

I'll have to go AWOL.


	24. Confessions

MILES

I carry Lola back into the woods, towards the others. Charlie is running alongside us, asking the usual questions, "How bad is she hurt? Will she be okay? She saved my life, Miles, we can't let her - "

"_Relax_, Charlie," I groan. "He hit her a couple of times, she's thirteen, it was a shock to her. She'll be fine."

"M-Miles?" Rachel obviously heard our voices as she runs toward us. "What happened?" she gasps as she sees Lola.

"She took a knocking from some militia guy. Sounds worse than it is." Lola is sobbing and groaning as she clutches her stomach where the militia kicked her.

"It's okay, it's okay," Rachel says as she puts her arm around Lola. And for once Charlie, instead of acting jealous, bathes Lola's bruised face and speaks gently to her.

When Lola calms down, Rachel and I wander off a little distance to talk.

"You have to tell me how you came to be here with Charlie," she says.

I look down at my feet. "It's a long story."

Rachel looks me straight in the eyes with that piercing gaze that won't let me look away. "Bass...he killed a Rebel's family, five years ago. The kids, too. That was when I knew he was too far gone. I tried – I tried to kill him, but I couldn't pull the trigger. Militia caught me standing over Bass's bed with the gun...so I ran. I hid in Chicago, then Charlie came for my help to get Danny back."

Rachel nods slowly as she tries to take all this in.

"How did Lola sneak off?" I ask her.

"She kept saying she wanted to help save Danny, and I kept saying no, so she snuck away and she must've leapt onto the train. She feels useless, because she couldn't protect me from people like Strausser."

I feel a cold hard lump in the pit of my stomach.

"Strausser tortured you?"

Rachel nods. To take my mind off of it, I change the subject right back to Lola. "This thing where she's desperate to protect you, it's post-traumatic stress, most likely. If she's been at Independence Hall for six months, seen the things they do there..." I trail off.

"She saw so much blood and death," Rachel says. "If she didn't keep hoping for her dad to rescue her, I don't know how she would have lived through it."

"She'd be better off with him," I say. "Better off someplace safe, instead of roaming around with us."

"You think Nora should take her home?"

"Not by herself. And - I can't leave Charlie."

Rachel nods briskly. "We'll look for the Rebels, just as soon as we get my son back."

I turn to go back to camp, but then Rachel says, "Wait – Miles. There's something I have to tell you, now. Bass is dead."

Bass. _Dead_? I can feel my knees flooding with blood as I think about what this means – my best friend gone. But it's not the end of the Monroe Republic, not by a long shot.


	25. Illumination

CHARLIE

Lola is recovering now. It was horrible, seeing someone younger than Danny get beat up trying to save me. And it got me thinking – if I could forgive Maggie for taking Mom's place, then maybe I should forgive Lola for taking my place. She was there for my mom, just like Maggie was there for me.

"Thanks for cleaning me up," Lola says.

"No problem," I smile back at her. Then I see Miles walking towards us. He was talking to Mom, and now he looks as white as a sheet. "What's wrong?" I ask him.

"Monroe's dead," Miles says. For some reason I can't understand, Lola looks away. "And that means that Captain Neville will be head of the Monroe Republic now."

Lola groans. "Then...it's not over yet."

Miles shakes his head. "Neville...he's even more ruthless than Monroe was. There'll be hell to pay for Monroe's death, let me tell ya."

Lola starts to tremble. "So...I put someone even worse in charge?"

"What are you talking about?" Miles asks her.

"I...oh my God, I meant to keep it secret but now I'll have to tell you!" she wails. "Miles, I killed your best friend! I'm so sorry..." She runs off in tears to where Aaron and Nora are sitting.

"Charlie, I want you to go sit with the others," Mom says.

"Why?" I ask her.

"Charlie, please," she begs. I can tell there's something she doesn't want me to know.

I look her steadily in the eye. "If it's about you or Monroe, I want to know."

Mom sighs, her shoulders sagging. "Charlie, Monroe...he...tried to rape me. Lola stabbed him. She killed him, to protect me."

I stare at her. "My God." If only I could kill Monroe a second time!

That evening we sit around the campfire, eating a deer I shot while we try to figure out how to get Danny back. Lola still can't look Miles in the eye.

"My guess is, that train is headed to Philly," says Miles. "And once Neville finds out that Monroe is dead, he'll probably just dump Danny in a ditch somewhere. They've got no use for him anymore."

"Then we have to get going," I say, standing up.

"But how do we cross the river?" Aaron asks.

Miles shrugs. "We build a boat."

Miles hacks away at a tree with his sword, until it finally comes crashing down. Then he cuts it into logs while the rest of us pull at tree vines to tie the logs together. After about an hour, we have a boat, with one of our blankets as a sail. As we push the boat toward the river, Miles motions to us to stop. He peers round a bush.

"It's a conscription camp," he says to me.

"What?"

"A breeding ground for militia. Kids go in, soldiers come out."

I hear Lola gasp behind me. "That's how it happens? They come out completely different people? That's - "

"Shh, keep it down!" Miles hisses as a militia soldier comes near us. He's right on the other side of the bush. I hear a zip noise, then a tinkle. We all stay silent. Then something under Aaron's shirt starts to glow, and a blinding flash of light illuminates us.


	26. Kidnapped

LOLA

The camp goes crazy. "RUN!" Miles yells as the militia rush at us. Then I see the boat. We need the boat, or we can't save Rachel's son. I start dragging it in the opposite direction of the camp as the blinding light disappears, but it's heavier than I thought. The militia are gaining on me. Fast. But we need the boat.

I know I'm doomed when I hear everyone else screaming in panic, "Lola, drop the boat! DROP THE BOAT!" Then a militia grabs me, raises his baton, and before I have time to scream, my world goes black.

I wake up in a barely-lit room. Girls not much older than me are milling around in black uniforms, with the Monroe Republic logo as an armband. I groan and lie back on the bunk bed, before I notice the new tightness of my clothes. I jump up and look down, and I'm wearing the same uniform as the others.

"They put it on you while you were sleeping," a girl about sixteen says to me. I viciously tug at the armband, the symbol of evil, and she says, "Don't bother. They sew 'em on tight."

"I am not joining the Monroe militia," I say, now tugging at my collar to try and get the uniform off.

The girl looks at me sadly. "You say that now, but after a few weeks..." She trails off, and I feel frightened. Is it possible for me to be brainwashed by a conscription facility? Even though I'm the Rebel leader's daughter, brought up since I was little to hate the Monroe Republic?

A militia officer throws open the door. "Move out! Move!" The recruits pour out of the door and I'm propelled along with them to a larger room where an equal number of boys, also in militia uniform, stand to attention. Another officer stands in front of us, with a smug smile. A smile that says they've got us, that we are at their mercy, to be moulded into whatever they want us to be.

"My name is Lieutenant Slotnick," he says, "and I want to welcome you." Then he puts on a fake concerned expression, the kind that General Monroe used. "I know that some of you are feeling very scared right now. But let me tell you – this is going to be the best thing that has ever happened to you. You get to fight, and die, for something that truly matters. General Monroe has led us away from the filth and corruption of the United States."

"The filth and corruption of the United States? The Monroe Republic is corrupt! The United States was a democracy, the Monroe Republic is a dictatorship!" It takes me a moment to realise it's me who just yelled that out.

Lieutenant Slotnick stands in front of me. "What was that? I don't think I heard you correctly."

"I - " I shriek as he yanks me back by my hair, then I hear a thud and he falls to the ground. I look up and see Danny.


	27. Rescue

CHARLIE

Whatever was glowing underneath Aaron's shirt goes dark. I hear slashes and groans as Miles and Nora cut through the ten or so militia that chased us. Miles finds a box of matches on one of them and relights the torch he was carrying. Then he spots something. Something by the camp, now bare as the other ten soldiers took Lola and Danny aboard the conscript boat.

"Hold this," he says shoving the torch at me. I frown.

Miles peers into a wagon, then throws some black clothes at us. "Here."

I look down and in my hands is a black uniform with the Monroe logo sewn on as an armband. "What – you want us to wear these?"

Miles shrugs. "If we want to get on board that ship, we better blend in."

Everyone changes clothes except Aaron, who is far too chubby for the tight militia uniforms.

"Later," says Miles pointing accusingly at Aaron, "you and I are going to have a talk about that glowy thing under your shirt. Stay hidden."

We have no choice but to swim after the boat, and at times I feel like the heavy uniform will pull me underwater. But Miles is holding me up and that's reassuring, somehow. Eventually we manage to drag ourselves to the boat and I wince as Miles and Nora slit the throats of the militia onboard.

"They're not here," Mom says, panicking as she sees that no new conscripts are on the boat. "They're not here! Miles - "

"Shh!" I hiss.

"But what if they drowned them? Lola and your brother?"

"_Relax_,Mom, OK?" I say. "They probably got in on another boat. There were only five on this one. Right?" Mom nods, still shaking. Miles strips the soldiers of their weapons before throwing them overboard. He finds two handguns and gives one to Mom, one to me. Mom looks at the weapon in my hand as if it burns my fingers. I roll my eyes. "Mom, I'm fine. Really."

"I want you to stay on the boat," she says.

I shake my head. "No. I came here to get Danny back. I'm going onboard." Mom puts her head in her hands. I wish she could see I'm not a little girl anymore. Miles doesn't treat me that way.

We climb aboard and the soldier clearing us hesitates. "Wait. I don't remember you - " Miles stabs him.

"Did you really have to do that?" I ask him. I still don't like how quick he is to kill someone. When did he learn to feel that way?

Suddenly, there's a commotion from below deck, and I hear running. Lola appears – then Danny! I barely have time to hug him before militia soldiers push me back and put a blade to his throat and Lola's.

"One false move, and we slit 'em wide open," the militia holding Danny says. "Weapons on the deck. Now." All of us drop our weapons. Then that flash of light blinds us, and when it goes off again, Miles and Nora are standing in the middle of five dead bodies.

Recruits pour out from below deck, diving over, swimming to shore, some of them shouting, "Thank you!" to us as they swim for shore.

I run to Danny, hugging him. "You came," he says to me, grinning from ear to ear.

"Of course I came," I say. "You're my brother. It's my job to look out for you." I hug him again, then he freezes.

"Mom?" he says, unable to believe his eyes. Of course. He thought she was dead.

"Look at you," Mom says to Danny, tears spilling down her face. Then she runs to him and they hug.

Danny pulls away first. "Mom, this is Lola - "

"I know. She came with us." Mom goes over to Lola and hugs her, too. "You okay?" she asks her.

"Yeah. Danny saved me," Lola replies.

Danny – saved her? It seems so weird, thinking of my little brother protecting someone. Normally it's the other way around. Miles frowns at Danny. "So, you're the reason we're in so much trouble." I roll my eyes at him.

"Danny, this is Uncle Miles." Danny shakes hands with him, then we introduce him to Nora, who hugs Lola, too.

The moment we reach the shore, Miles corners Aaron. "What in the hell happened?" he demands.

"What do you mean?" Aaron says nonchalantly.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. How did that lighthouse go on? What are you not telling me?" Then I see Mom walk up to them.

"Guys, stop. Yes, Miles, this" - she holds a weird-looking pendant up from Aaron's neck - "can sometimes turn the power back on." Then Lola barges in.

"Will you use it to stop Monroe – I mean, Captain Neville? Please, Rachel, we have to stop the Republic. Please say yes?" Mom seems to think about it for a moment, then she nods. Lola hugs her. "Thank you, thank you!" she squeals. We speak about it to Nora, who tells us that there's a Rebel camp in West Chester.

"Right then, let's move," Miles says.

The next night, we're moving through the woods again and hear a strange voice. "Heeeeeeere, Danny, Danny, Danny-boy. Heeeeeeeere?" I can tell by Danny's expression that he knows that voice.

"It's Private Richards."

"Who?"

"A militia. He was on to me the whole time I was travelling with them."

Lola's ears prick up at the sound of another voice.

"Lola! I trust I have your attention."

"That's Strausser!" Miles hisses to the rest of us.

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, but I seem to have come down with a case of writer's block over the past few days. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! **


	28. How It All Began

PVT RICHARDS – 24 HOURS EARLIER

As the train speeds along, I make an excuse and step outside the train car. Then I leap out of the speeding train, rolling until I come to a stop in the woods. Camouflage. Good. Like I said, it's never a good idea to disobey Captain Neville. But it'll sure as hell be worth it if I can make that little bastard Danny pay for what he did to Simon.

Now, all I have to do is make my way to St Martin's Ferry. It's a long walk, but I need to put as much distance between myself and Neville as possible. I've seen the way he deals with deserters – not a pretty sight. Once I get there, I figure I'll sneak onto the boat somehow.

A few hours later, I'm still on the road when none other than Sergeant Strausser, chief torturer of the Monroe Republic, steps into my view. "Well, well. Do I see a deserter before me?" he says in reference to my dirty, worn uniform.

Before Simon died, I'd be afraid of this guy. But now all I care about is getting revenge. Then it suddenly hits me – Strausser is my best chance for revenge. He doesn't give a damn about the Monroe Republic, only about killing things. If I can make myself useful, maybe I can survive long enough to kill Danny. With any luck, I can pick up a few things from Strausser to make Danny's death as long and as painful as possible.

"Private Kevin Richards. From what I hear, you're looking for revenge. Funny thing - " he says as he eats an apple off his knife " – I'm looking for a killer. A killer who, I'm afraid, murdered our leader, General Monroe."

"I heard."

"Do you have any idea where that killer might be? At least one of them is related to Danny Matheson."

"Danny's being taken to St Martin's Ferry – the conscript boat."

Strausser nods. "And according to my scout here - " he indicates none other than Jason Neville " – the other Mathesons are following him. Well done. You just led me to General Monroe's killers – or one of them. So, I'm going to offer you the chance for revenge. Help us to eliminate the Mathesons and their friends."

I nod.

That night, we wait in the woods. Sacks of flour are poised above the trees. I came up with the idea. It'll asphyxiate that little douche, Danny, when we pull on the rope and drop them, plus it'll distract his family while we round them up and shoot them. Except this girl called Lola. Strausser's convinced that she's the one who killed Monroe. "Captain Neville will want her alive," he says.

Sure enough, we hear twigs snapping, and I can see Danny's face by the moonlight. "Heeeeeeere, Danny, Danny, Danny-boy. Heeeeeeeere?" I say in a mocking voice.

Strausser moves closer to Danny and his friends.

"Lola! I trust I have your attention."


	29. Saviour

MILES

"Who's Strausser?" Charlie asks me as we continue to hide in the bushes.

"The one person in the militia who ever scared me. You don't want to know him, and you don't want him to know you." My palms are sweating as I speak.

"I know him," Lola growls from behind me. "He tortured Rachel, and he tried to rape me. _I will kill him dead _if I get the chance." Okay, thirteen-year-old girl scaring the piss out of me right now...

"Lola!" Strausser calls again. "I know you killed General Monroe. Who else would have been so eager? I saw the way you walked out of Mrs Matheson's suite that night. Little fists curled into balls, _longing _to kill him. And the tears running down your pretty little face..." He brushes his finger below his eyelid as if wiping away a tear, then licks it seductively. We all bite our lips so as not to make disgusted noises.

"See those sacks of flour up there?" Strausser says, pointing to some white sacks above us. "I'm sure you can imagine what happens if they dropped on your friend Danny. Give yourself up, and we won't pull the rope."

Lola suddenly jumps up and steps out of the bushes before we can stop her. I have to physically restrain Rachel, stifling her cry of horror with my hand clamped over her mouth. Strausser looks at Lola, grinning from ear to ear. "Good girl. That's not so hard, now, is it?" He walks toward her and tugs at something on her hand-embroidered gypsy blouse. I can hear her whimpering. Then he licks her ear. No, no, _not _happening! I rush at him and luckily the others join me, but we're still severely outnumbered. Worse still, Lola seems to have vanished into thin air. Great. Nora and I are trying to fend off at least twenty heavily armed militia, and Rachel's a lousy shot with that gun I gave her. And now I can see that Danny is gone, too.

Suddenly, I hear a hammering noise from above. I look up and there, as I live and breathe, is Lola cutting down militia with a machine-gun turret. She's a damn good shot, too. Each soldier that moves closer to us becomes riddled with bullet holes. Now there are just five soldiers, and they fall easily to me and Nora.

"Where's Danny?" cries Rachel.

"Where's Lola?" Charlie asks.

"And where the hell's Strausser?" Nora asks.

Suddenly, we hear a scream from above. Strausser is almost crushing Lola as he pins her ruthlessly to the ground. Then Danny comes into view and pulls him off Lola, punching him in the stomach, then throwing him over the wall onto a dumpster. Was the fall enough to kill him? I don't know. I don't really want to get close enough to find out. If Strausser was laid in his coffin I'd still have to poke him to make sure he was dead.

Danny and Lola run to us and are smothered in hugs from Rachel, Charlie, and Nora. Then Lola turns to Danny and hugs him. "Thank you," she says.


	30. Betrayal

LOLA

We've been on the road for a few days, when Rachel says, "We need to make a detour."

"Aww, Mom..." Danny whines. He's always whining – how much farther to West Chester, how much longer do we have to camp outside, it's too cold, shouldn't we seek shelter for the night?

"Where, exactly?" I demanded after hearing his complaints for the twentieth time. Could this really be the same boy who rescued me from an extremely dangerous militia officer? "We're in the middle of nowhere."

"I don't know how you can put up with it," he sighed. "Just camping out in the freezing cold every night."

"Well, you'll just have to put up with it," I growled in frustration.

"You know, Charlie told me about you being forced to work as a slave at Independence Hall. How could you stand it?"

"Because I had to," I said simply.

"Why didn't you try to run? Why didn't you try to kill Monroe earlier?"

"Oh, just shut up!" I yelled, annoyed. "Bad things happen – in case you haven't noticed, we're living in the Monroe Republic."

Danny sulked for days after this. Then again, nobody else ever talks to him like that. Rachel and Charlie think he's perfect – they're always petting him and giving him extra blankets, like he's five years old. I try not to hate Danny, because he's Rachel's son, and because I'm getting to like Charlie, too. She's a lot like Rachel, with her way of protecting people, especially people younger than her. But Danny can be so annoying!

"Why do we need to make a detour?" I ask Rachel.

"If we want power, we need to pay a visit to John Sanborn. He can give us the things we need to build amplifiers."

"That was one of the people you and Dad worked with, right?" Rachel nods.

A few hours later, we come across a house in a clearing. Rachel knocks on the door and a middle-aged man answers. "Rachel? Is that really you?" He looks terrified, though I don't know why.

"Hey, John," she says.

"Come in, come in," he says as if out of breath. Rachel, Miles and me walk inside, but only I notice John locking the door behind us.

"John, we need your help," Rachel says. "I need to build an amplifier."

John nods, still shaky, and leads us to another door. He opens it and leads us down some stairs to a dungeon-type room. Then he flips a switch on the wall, and the room instantly fills with light. I stare until I can feel Miles rolling his eyes. At the far end of the room, suspended above a machine that whirrs and hums, is one of the pendants, glowing with a blue light. But best of all, on the left wall is a collection of guns. Big ones. Suddenly I forget to be suspicious of John, as I look at the guns and realise what this means. This could turn the battle in the Rebels' favour. This could be the key to bringing the United States back.

Miles picks up a...thing that looks like a gun but isn't quite.

"Be careful with that," John warns him. "That's a sonic cannon. It emits a high-pitched audio frequency that can knock its target out cold."

"And you just sit down here with your electricity and your necklace, just...making stuff?" Miles asks.

John shrugs. "It's a hobby."

A hobby? How can it be a hobby? There are only twelve pendants in the whole world, and nobody these days has that many guns. Something smells bad to me.

Miles looks at a particularly huge gun and smiles. Yes, he smiled. Wow.

"We'll take one of these," he says to John.

"What is it?" I ask.

"A rocket launcher," Miles says.

"You – you can launch _rockets _from that thing?"

"Yeah."

This is amazing!

John is shaking even more now. "What's wrong?" Rachel asks him.

"The thing is...Randall got to me." Then a piercing screech fills my ears. I cover my ears but the screeching noise makes my head spin, then the world goes black.

When I wake up, all three of us are tied to a stack of chairs. John is standing in front of us.

"I'm sorry about this, Rachel, I really am," he says. "I have to tell Randall you're here, he's been looking for you. He's coming, Rachel. He'll be here soon. He has big plans for you."

I don't know much about Randall Flynn, but Rachel did give me the impression that he's not to be trusted. "We won't build an amplifier for you," I say.

"No, I'm sorry, but you will. You don't know what Randall will do to you, or me. Rachel, he got into the Tower."

The Tower? That's where they control all the nanites Rachel told me about!

Suddenly, I feel my restraints slipping, and I realise that Miles has managed to untie us. He punches John and then slams his head against the brick wall, knocking him out. Then he unties Rachel.

"Grab the weapons and let's go!" he says.

We head out of the front door to where the others are waiting. "We need to hurry," Rachel says. "Randall's coming."

"Who's Randall?" Nora asks.

"Trust me, you don't want to stick around long enough to find out."

We continue on through the woods, towards West Chester. When we reach the camp, I can see a familiar shape coming into view.

"DAD!" I squeal as I launch myself into his arms.


	31. Going Down As Americans

COMMANDER WAYNE RAMSEY

I hug my daughter, trying to hide the tears streaking down my face. "Baby..." I whisper. Then the million questions I wondered over the past few months come spilling out. "Did Monroe hurt you? Did he mistreat you? Did he raise a hand to you?" Then I realise that all those questions are asking the same thing.

"Dad, Monroe's dead," Lola tells me.

I stand there for a moment, trying to take this in. Then Lola says, "I killed him." I stare at her.

"_You_...killed Monroe?"

I see someone familiar-looking in the background. "Rachel, is that you?"

"Hey, Wayne," she says. "Wayne, Lola killed Monroe to protect me. He was going to rape me and - "

"I know you must think I'm a cold-blooded killer, Dad - " Lola interrupts.

"No," I say. "You did what you had to do." As I look at Lola, standing next to Rachel and her friends, I realise that she has learned a lot from travelling with them. She looks less wide-eyed, less self-conscious. But somehow, I miss the wide-eyed little girl I knew.

Rachel introduces me to her kids, her friends and the tall, dark-haired man standing next to her. "This is Miles Matheson," she tells me.

"Miles Matheson? You brought _Miles Matheson _here?"

"He's been helping us on the road, Dad," Lola says. "He helped us get these guns." She shows me the machine guns and the rocket launcher. I know that Captain Tom Neville will take over the Monroe militia now. What he may lack in firepower, he'll make up for in cold-blooded ruthlessness. We'll need all the weapons we can lay our hands on. I shake Miles's hand, and we nod. We have an understanding.  
For now.

I step inside the camp and write a letter to my wife, telling her that Lola is now safe. As I hand it to one of my scouts, two other soldiers drag in a bloodied, battered boy. He has brown skin and curling black hair, and wears a Monroe militia uniform.

"Nate?" Charlie says.

"How do you know him?" I demand from her.

"He's been tracking us," Charlie says. "So how did you escape, Nate?"

"Militia unit...picked me up." He can hardly speak from the blood pouring out of his mouth. "Air strike...twelve hours. Dad...found Dr Jaffe. Made him build an amplifier..."

"Who is your dad?" I demand from him.

"Captain...Tom Neville. Told me...never to come back..." He slumps to the ground.

"Get him to a medic," I say to the two soldiers. "We'll decide what to do with him later." As they take Jason Neville away, I try to process what he just told me. Two helicopters, equipped with machine guns, against us. This is not looking good. I sigh and look at my army.

"Okay, they're coming at us with the big guns. So my vote – we make our stand. I say we send a message to Monroe, that he can't do to us what the Russians, Germans, and Al-Qaeda couldn't. And if we go down, we go down as Americans!" The others nod.

"I need volunteers to be our front line of defence against the choppers," I say. Nora, Charlie, Nicholas, Miles and Rachel raise their hands. And Lola. Everyone looks at her as I roll my eyes. This is embarrassing. I can't give her a stern parental lecture on how dangerous this is in front of my army. "You and Danny will stay here and look after the wounded," I tell her.

"But Dad - "

"That's an order!" I say. Lola makes an exasperated noise and then storms off. So much for avoiding embarrassment.

Sure enough, twelve hours later we hear the choppers approach. "Let's move!" I yell to the volunteers. Under cover, we shoot at the choppers, or try to. Charlie and Rachel aren't much good with guns, and the chopper pilots' guns are far superior to ours. As if that isn't bad enough, Miles is blown back by a missile from one of the choppers. Nicholas becomes riddled with bullet holes. A stray bullet hits Nora in the leg. I just about manage to pull her back and push her behind me. Then the choppers get a real lock on us. They destroy our cover, narrowly missing us. It's all we can do to drag Nora back towards the camp.

_It's over_, I think. _A full-on extermination. It's over_. Suddenly, I see Lola outside, machine gun aimed at one of the choppers. Dammit, she sneaked out of one of the side doors! There's no time to run after her, no time to do anything but watch what comes next. With the precision of an experienced marksman, she hits one of the pilots dead-on. The plane crashes, and without the amplifier, the other one starts to descend.

But the pilot isn't done. He has his hands on the machine-gun, aimed at Lola. It's a moment that lasts forever, the moment my daughter dies. Then a rocket slams into the pilot and he explodes into bloody chunks. I run outside and it's Rachel's pasty, weak-looking son who stands holding the rocket launcher, his arm around Lola like the ultimate big brother, protecting her.

**A/N: I chose to keep Danny alive because I feel he is a character with potential. I thought that after he heroically brought down that helicopter in "The Stand" he deserves more of a story. I will continue to develop him as much as I can. Stay tuned! **


End file.
